"I'm actually allergic to strawberries," you tell your teacher when he mentions how yummy the strawberry shortcake looks.

"Really?" His eyes are wide as he looks up from the menu. "I've never heard someone being allergic to strawberries... What happens when you eat them?"

"I break out in rashes and I can't breathe."

"Sounds kinda serious..." Mr. Byun mutters. "Then what about the caramel brownie?"

You flip through the menu booklet, looking for the brownie. Seeing you struggle, Mr. Byun leans forward in his seat and flips the pages for you until you get to the caramel brownie. The cake actually looks good, so you immediately nod. You peruse the rest of the page and see that there is a rainbow Nutella cake.

"Can we have this too?" You turn your booklet and show the picture of the cake to your teacher.

"Your call," he shrugs.

You raise your hand to get the attention of the waitress. She comes over and takes your order promptly. When she leaves with the menus, you realise that this might have been a wrong decision. Without anything to look at, you're left facing your teacher with nothing much to say. After all, what do students say to their teachers when eating cake? You feel awkward and fidgety now. Mr. Byun sees that, but he doesn't seem affected by this situation.

"So, what does your father build?" Mr. Byun finally asks, deciding to relieve some of your discomfort.

"Bed frames, shoe racks, dog houses..." You think of what else you've seen your dad building. But you can't think of any, since you have no interest in what he makes anyway. So you say, "Sometimes if he's paid well, he does bigger things."  

"So your father has a business?" He deduces. You confirm his guess and he hums. "Knew you were a rich kid."

"Hey—"

"Can't be a problem child for nothing, sweetheart," Mr. Byun smirks. When he sees how annoyed you are by his words, he laughs. "Oh, take a joke, will you?"

"Your oldie humour doesn't work on me," you huff.

"Oldie? I'm not old."

"You're like, 25. Or something."

"You're like, ignorant. Or something." Mr. Byun imitates the way you speak and you glare at him. He rolls his eyes, "Being 5 years older than you doesn't make me old."

"If you're really 25, you're actually 6 years older than me," you correct.

"Oh..." He makes a face and you feel smug, thinking you've won this. But Mr. Byun continues to say, "I thought you were older."

"I won't pay for your cake," you threaten, hoping it might make him feel something.

He shrugs, "I'll pay then." You scowl and he chuckles. "What, you're actually being petty because of me calling you old?"

"Girls are sensitive creatures, okay..."

Mr. Byun laughs and nods as he agrees, "Okay. You look your age."

"I don't want it anymore," you tell him.

"What? Wasn't that what you wanted to hear?"

"Girls are also confusing creatures. And we like sincerity."

"Then prove it." You look at him weirdly and your teacher explains, "Prove your sincerity to me too. Do your best for designing. And your other architecture subjects."

The waitress comes back with your orders, helping effectively in putting an end to this burdensome conversation. How did a snide remark turn into a challenge? Mr. Byun watches you beyond the waitress, who is putting down the desserts. When she has set everything down, you pick up your fork.

"I'm going for the brownie first," you tell Mr. Byun.

He doesn't say anything but observes you as you try the cake. You don't say anything but continue to feed yourself more brownie. Mr. Byun is still waiting for some sort of reaction from you. He eventually realises that you're not going to say anything that might tell him how much you're enjoying the dessert. And you finally notice that he isn't eating.

"Eat, Mr. Byun," you push the plates towards him.

"Watching you eat is kind of satisfying," he murmurs, pushing the desserts back to you. "You eat." He leans back in his chair and continues watching you.

"I can't finish it all," you insist.

"I'll finish it for you, then. Eat as much as you want."

You don't need another prompt. You move onto the rainbow Nutella cake when you've had enough of the brownie. The cakes are good and they've done a good job in satiating your desire for sweet treats. When you're full, you push the rest of the cakes to your teacher.

"You didn't even eat half of each!" Mr. Byun comments.

"But I'm full already."

"Of course, you didn't even take a break while eating." He says matter-of-factly. "Help me out."

"I wish Sehun was here to eat this," you mumble to yourself, forcing yourself to eat some more.

"Who?" Mr. Byun asks, thinking he might have heard wrong. "Se...Hun? Your boyfriend?"

"He likes sweet things," you explain. "And has a big stomach capacity. He always finishes for me when I can't do it myself."

"Aren't boyfriends always the dustbins?" Mr. Byun jokes. He accidentally slips his personal life into the conversation, "I always had to eat my girlfriend's food because she kept going on a diet. Every girl I've dated, they don't enjoy good food."

"Does you current girlfriend enjoy food?" You ask politely, suddenly interested in your teacher's personal and love life.

He leans forwards to start eating the cake as he admits, "I don't have a girlfriend."

"Ah..." You nod in understanding.

There is silence for a bit before Mr. Byun remembers, "Oh, you were helping your boyfriend to return the lab book the other time, weren't you? What was it... Oh Sehun?"

"Yeah. He was having basketball training and couldn't do it himself," you tell him.

Mr. Byun hums as he bobs his head. He keeps eating and you help a little too, eating as much as your stomach can hold. It is quiet while the both of you are stuffing yourselves. So you apparently have a boyfriend while Mr. Byun doesn't have a girlfriend. Now what? There's nothing else you can talk about. You've basically gotten enough information about your teacher.

He likes classical music; probably means he is boring. And maybe means that he has a lot to ponder about in his life and the music just calms him. So he also likes cake, and honestly, who doesn't? He also has no girlfriend. Not shocking, since he has made you feel like on several occasions. Basically not a guy who would attract any girls, if he actually acts like a douche to every other female besides you. What else do you need to know about him? You've actually known a lot more than a student should.

Eventually, Mr. Byun finishes the cake for you and wipes his mouth. He claps his hands against his thighs, "Shall we go?"

"Yeah," you stand and walk next to Mr. Byun to the cashier. You open your purse to get your money out, only to realise that Mr. Byun had already paid for the cakes when you have the bill in your hands. You stare at him in surprise.

"I told you I'll pay," he reminds you, tilting his head to look at you. He receives his change and keeps the money in his wallet. "Besides, this will probably be the last time I'll eat with you. And I can't possibly make you pay. What kind of guy would that make me?"

"A guy who makes me feel bad about myself but pays for my cravings?"

"Sounds like a guy every boyfriend should be, no?"

"No."

Mr. Byun laughs. You leave the café and walk back to his car together. Halfway to the car though, an old lady on a motorised wheelchair comes your way. Mr. Byun quickly pulls you back against his chest when the irate elder zooms past, missing you just by a second if not for your teacher's alertness. You're stunned when you catch the old woman's glare as she passes you by.

"You okay?" Mr. Byun murmurs.

His arm is around your waist, his palm flat on your stomach. His hold is tight on you. His warm breath hits your cheek when he breathes. You swallow and try to calm your agitated heart and nerves. Maybe the almost-accident scared you a little more than you thought it should. You nod your head and Mr. Byun slowly slips his hand from your body, leaving you colder than before when he takes a step back.

"That lady was unreasonable," he shakes his head and starts walking again. Then he glances at you, "You're sure you're okay? Did she hit you or perhaps run her wheels over your foot?"

You shake your head and murmur softly, "I'm fine, Mr. Byun."

Your heart doesn't stop racing for the rest of the time until Mr. Byun drops you home.

You're waiting for Sehun to be done with his basketball training again while you complete a prelab for Chemistry practical tomorrow. It's been a week or so after fatefully meeting Mr. Byun at the supply shop. You still haven't told Sehun about what happened that day after you left him. And you honestly don't think you will. It isn't important, anyway.

"You think we can use at least half the court?" You hear someone asking in the background. You turn your head and see Mr. Kim and Mr. Byun walking towards the basketball court, wearing proper attire. "Besides, they're just doing physical."

Mr. Byun shrugs as his eyes roam from the court to your bench-table. When he sees you there, the side of his lips twitches slightly. You watch him and his friend make their way towards you.

"Waiting for your boyfriend?" Mr. Byun guesses and you nod.

"Do you think we'll be able to get half the court?" Mr. Kim next to him asks you hopefully.

You look at the team. There are a few people who aren't present, making the team small. You shrug, "You can give it a shot. Should be okay."

"You're not doing your architecture subjects?" Mr. Byun asks when he sees you doing Chemistry.

You shake your head, "Architecture isn't my only major, Mr. Byun."

"Let's go, Baekhyun. Stop talking," Mr. Kim nudges your design teacher before grabbing his arm and dragging him to the basketball court.

You don't go back to your work, but instead observe Mr. Kim and Mr. Byun approach the basketball coach. They talk to him for a bit and finally receives approval to split the court half-half. You see how unhappy Sehun's looks. He's even sending glare daggers in Mr. Byun's direction, despite the teacher being on the other side of the court with many people between them. You smile fondly at your protective best friend before starting on the prelab again. You don't get to go far because the coach sends the team out for a water break.

"Ugh, that asswipe," Sehun snarls and gulps his water down angrily, staring in the direction of Mr. Byun. You laugh and he turns to you. "I really don't like him."

"He's actually okay," you laugh, trying to persuade him.

Sehun is stubborn as usual when he shakes his head and passes you his water bottle. He enters the court again with his teammates to start the next block of training. You finally get to finish your work without a pause, since there is no one to distract you. Sehun's training finishes early today, since there are people (namely Mr. Kim and Mr. Byun) using the court.

Sehun sits next to you as he wipes his perspiration. You watch him, talking to him at the same time. He takes off his sweatshirt and quickly wear a fresh shirt over his body. You pass him his padded jacket.

"You should just go home next time," Sehun tells you. You frown and he flicks your numb nose. "Look at you, you're Rudolph the reindeer."

You laugh, swatting his hand away. "I've never gone home without you. Besides, what if I get ?"

"More like, what if I get ," Sehun corrects you.

"Shut up," you push him away.

He sniggers as he folds his sweatshirt and keeps it into his bag. "Ready to go home? You're almost turning into a Popsicle."

"It's too cold," you sigh as you pack up. "I can't wait for winter break so I can stay home where there are heaters."

"I told you not to stay back to wait."

"Can't I just be a good girlfriend and wait on you?"

"He still believes we're in a relationship?" Sehun laughs, turning to look at your teacher. You do the same and see that Mr. Byun keeps glancing at you. Sehun scoffs, "What an idiot."

"Don't call him that, he's a Masters student, you know. Which means he's smarter and older than you are."

Sehun merely rolls his eyes. You zip up your bag and wrap your scarf around your neck. Just when you turn your back to the basketball court, you hear Mr. Byun shout your name. You halt in your steps and Sehun groans loudly.

"What does he want now?"

You turn around. Mr. Byun is jogging towards you. When he stops in front of you, Sehun might have growled, but it could be just your hearing. Mr. Byun glances nervously at Sehun.

"Um..." He scratches the back of his neck. "There's this... overseas program thing for our faculty and the teachers get to choose a student from each class to go..."

"Oh, you haven't announced it to our class yet though," you tell him, tilting your head.

"We just got the word yesterday," he explains. Then he says, "Just thought it might be a good opportunity for you to learn and appreciate more about architecture. So I'm asking you first."

"Where will we be going?"

"Paris." Your eyes widen. But he crushes you when he adds, "Just for seven days though. I'll give you the application slip during the next class if you're really interested."

"Paris is cold too," Sehun murmurs into your ear. "You should be escaping to a warmer country, like Singapore or something."

"But it's Paris!" You try to argue.

Mr. Byun laughs, "You'll be there to learn though, not to shop."

"Will you be going?" Sehun asks the teacher, squinting at him.

Mr. Byun shakes his head, "No. There are already teachers who have volunteered to usher the students." He looks at you, "Okay, I'll take this as you're going. I'll still talk to the class about this, but I'll pick you out of the candidates in our class." He takes a step back, smiling genuinely. "Go home, your nose looks like it's gonna fall off." You blush, although it's not visible since your face is already red anyway.  "And stay warm." Mr. Byun gestures to his neck and pretends to pull up an imaginary scarf.

You go home with the knitwear covering you up to your nose.